


Little Marriage

by BowNArrow



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Dysfunctional Relationships, Fluff, M/M, No Magic-AU, Slow Build, Smut, SnowBaz, first work eva
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-10-20 10:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10660638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BowNArrow/pseuds/BowNArrow
Summary: While coming from an underprivileged background and being a struggling student, Simon Snow now battles with a loss of income. High rent, Uni and food comes with a cost. Meanwhile Agatha and Basilton's unconventional marriage is burning out before it even has a chance to begin. In high society appearances are everything and what lays between the young couples sheets may mend or be the final thread their unorthodox union.





	1. A Reflection

Baz

"What am I supposed to do? I purchased cream leather upholstery!! Niall simmers. "That hog stated that love seat would look marvelous cornered with the Maud sienna area rug. It will never compare to Rutherford's sitting room." 

"Why are you comparing it to Rutherford's? His furniture is in line with Adams Style." Minty interjects, sipping her third Manhattan. Niall wrinkles his nose, "I'm not talking about that abomination in Knightsbridge. I'm referring to where he summers." I can see Agatha almost, almost roll her eyes. My girl can't lose face even when Niall brings his most laughable problems to the table. 

I pick at my monkfish smothered in goat cheese and maple syrup. A five-star entree named in all the magazines. The most popular item.  
"Speaking of which. Where are you and Niall going before the renovations are finished?" Agatha finally speaks. "After Baz closes the Montgomery account, we'll head to the Alps for our holiday." That’s going to be our thing. Spas in the Alps. Father and Daphne love the resort and so will we. I pick at my fish’s eyes as Minty gawks at Agatha as she describes our planned getaway.  
A honeymoon from a honeymoon. My dinner is inedible, the monk-fish smells like it's still kicking. "As Agatha was saying," I interject "The resort in just wonderful, I'm already looking forward to the outdoor hot springs." I smile on cue, popping the dead fish in my mouth like it's candy.

Agatha

Here is a house. It is very pretty. Here is Jane. Isn’t she pretty? She is the prettiest. See John? Isn’t he handsome? They make a swell couple, don’t they?

After drinks and dinner, Basiliton and I head to back to the manor. I lucked out. In most instances my circle of friends had inherited much smaller living arrangements after their weddings. Not us though. After much time socializing my husband and I can head back to our home, not a condo or penthouse like most newly's. The Pitch manor is one of the most recognized in England and belongs to the wealthiest. As it is now my own. 

Baz and I, we mirror each other, who wouldn't not picture us together. Perfect girl, perfect boy. It has never been up in the cards; our families have always been in the same circles. Love him I do. Minty, Phillipa, and Keris tolerate their men. Shrug at their immaturity, roll their eyes and say, "boys will be boys,". They try on marriage like a loose fit glove. Not perfect, unfilled and slightly wrinkled at the tips but soon they'll make it work. Baz and I are different, we fit like two parts, an instrument. Perfect Harmony.  
I watch as he slides off his suite jacket, he sits on the bed to uncuff his gold cufflink.  
“Minty,” he looks up as I start, "She was saying Niall is reconsidering they're trip to the Mediterranean, He'd rather spend holiday less exerted." He rolls his eyes on cue.  
that’s my Baz.

"Minty also agrees that the Mediterranean is just simply exhausting!  
"If you are suggesting that Minty suggested that she and Niall must crash our holid-," He starts  
I interrupt before he can finish. “I mean, the poor girl can't sit beside the pool all summer Baz! She could get a splinter on her arse from sitting on a recliner to long! "  
"Agatha honestly-"  
"The chlorine will kill her ha-,"  
"The worst thing in to happen to Minty is developing hemorrhoids from lounging at the pool not splinters," he smiles at me, biting back a wicked grin. "I mean, I could never picture our Minty lazing on a common wicker chair."

"Baz have some sympathy," I sit on the bed alongside him "she has to go with Niall. God knows when he'll get over that horrendous cream loveseat." I snicker at the thought of Niall seething at dinner. Minty fighting back tears at the thought of ordering new curtains that could fix their tacky taste. I had whispered to Baz during dessert that the only way to fix that sitting room would be to lay the curtains over the furniture, and move out. "honestly darling, lighter fluid could work too'' he had whispered back.  
"So, you don't mind if they come along to our weekend getaway then?" I look up at him through my eyelashes.  
He sighs. "No, it's fine. The more the merrier I suppose." Smiling in victory I lay my hand on his inner thigh, and squeeze. His grey, grey eyes don’t meet mine. He masks his panic as boredom as I slide my hand higher.

Everybody wishes they were us. We are perfect in every way. He's so handsome, tall. His hair is perfect, I love it most when he slicks it back, it makes him look intimidating and older. Cheekbones cut from marble. He's the smartest and has the best blend of biting humor. He fits the description of the flawless boy in every ''teen queen who’s your soulmate quiz'' He would do anything for me. Everybody wishes they were us. I'd say just never settle for anything less. He'd say we just fit. Aces, splendid couple. Immaculate relationship. Perfection. 

“Agatha, please.” Baz has his eyes shut, gripping my hand, tugs it away from his thigh. “I can’t,” Shaking his head.

He'd do anything for me alright, except that. As I sleep in a king-sized bed alone again, I think about how humbling it is, in the sense of not being wanted or in other words becoming a caricature of a relationship just like everybody else, just a hidden better.


	2. Background Noise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon's section

Simon

"Pen..?" I open my eyes to a pile of rubble. Sticky notes, books and notepaper decorate the flat, in all honestly it looks like paper goods store threw up on our living room. Jumping off from the couch. I've already managed to bugger up the day by being 15 minutes late. My paper's fly from the couch, my new blanket of choice it seems for the fitting semester.  
"Penny!!" I wail, "If I am already late for my appointment and if you're still here then that equals too you're probably already fired." On cue a crash of frizz tumbles out of my bedroom "Simon," she’s breaths out in a huff, "I hate selling shoes, so all I have to say at this present moment is that being broke sucks and part-time work to put it simply is a dumb whore."

Penny is my best and dearest friend, my rock or in my case a very large boulder. She pulled me through school and is pushing me to be my best in uni. She also understands how important it is to get away from a bad home life. The difference just being is that I aged out of the system and Penny needed to move out after her youngest sibling left a large clump of hair she found in the shower drain on Penny's pillow. So after talking about getting an apartment together for so many years it finally has happened and now just as its beginning it's now ending.

"You are going moving to America." I say it before she can change her mind. We sit in our kitchen drinking mugs of tea, when I again, pep talk her before changes her mind. "Simon I can always push back a year. There is so much we haven't done has students yet!" She waves her hands around our kitchen like she's catching wishes. I only grin at her. "Push back a year Pen? You've already bought you're ticket and signed a lease with Micah. We've packed everything, so no cold feet please." I tease.  
She stops smiling, a pucker in her brow "Simon, I just don't want to leave you, nevermind dreary London."

I roll my eyes thinking about the days of packing we've already done. "Remember you're boyfriend? Who is probably counting the days to see you? Pen forget London."  
"It's just that I worry about you alright?" She runs her hands through her purple curls and sighs. "I know that you get overwhelmed when things get heavy sometimes, and that always leads to you shutting down."I feel a little lump in my throat. I've always known that Penny has been trying to make up for my lack parental guidance and me never getting to be "the kid" in a family. She puts me first and I love her for it, but after protecting me for so long I can't let her give up Micah or Northwestern, so I'll fake it till I make it.

"Penny I'll be fine! I've been talking to Trixie and she needs a place to stay." White lie. White lie. "Trixie? Really? Now that is a down grade Si, not that I am vain or anything," She shrugs and pretends to sniff.

"Anyway Pen, I have to run, I'm late for appointment with the schools administrator," I mumble.  "Student loan business? Don't let Possibelf shake you okay? You will get the it, no stress."

"No stress. No stress. Nooo stress," I chant it back faking a grin. I cannot let Penny know much I really need this loan. She pats my head half jokingly before sending me off to Ms. Possibelf. No stress, no stress, no stress no stress.

••

"I am very sorry Mr. Snow, but you are not legible for a student loan."My stomach begins to turn.

"Is, is there something wrong with my forms? I, I haven't gotten another job just yet but I'll-" I stutter out before she interrupts me."The issue is Mr. Snow, is that when the loans office looks at your request, they tend to look into both your parents financial credit or lack of," I feel my hand ball up into a shaky fist. "And your own financial situation as a whole. From that perspective, we cannot grant you a loan on this day."

  
"I'm, I-I don't know what I should do then," She raises her eyebrow at me passively, but I keep going, "Unreliable credit means I cannot take out another student loan," I feel myself talking faster. "It's too late to apply for another scholarship, even then if I find another job and manage to find a new apartment in time, I'll have to work full time, go to class, get my homework in order, manage to pay for courses, books and rent?''

  
There is also food that I probably can't afford. I feel my stomach already growling. I only had an apple for breakfast, which I also had for dinner last night. I already feel so lightheaded. "There's not need sulk Mr. Snow. My daughter manages to work as a waitress and be a level A, I cannot see how you just cannot scrape by." She smiles smugly. I want to take her papers off her desk and throw them around the room.

"Ms. Possibelf, is it alright if I can get more scholarship pamphlets?" I smile weakly. "That I can do," she smiles sweetly smoothing her skirt as she hops off her chair, leaving me to my panic attack. As she shuts the door, I lay my head on her desk. My skin feels clammy. Breath in, breath out. The world is tilting, I feel the room spin on an axis.

Penny is moving to America. Breath in. She's going to leave me. I can't handle being alone, what if I wake up in the middle of the night and she's not there? The worst parts always come back at night. I let out a shaky breath. What if I have to drop out? Where am I going to live? I don't have-. I feel my hands shaking, there is not enough air in this room. Don't think, don't think, don't think, don't think. My heart starts beating into the phrase.

                                                                                                                                              

I stand outside the building as the rain coats me and the pavement. Rainy days always remind me of when we would go into the city. I would always let him wander around the shops, never letting him leave my sight. Its like flooring the gas when you already know the train is coming like it or not. I could not let myself believe it then, in the way that be it god, fate or the universe I'm not so sure, would give me pain so great and unstoppable at that age. If I look out in the street long enough maybe I will see my past self still watching out for the worst. My eyes start watering again. "Christ dammit," I mutter. "Help me"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tragic back story cliche. I was going to write more but then it would be like stealing chapter 3's juice Ya know??


	3. The Way He Looks at Me

**Baz**

Eyes like a cobra, he sits on the bed. Elbows resting back on a beautiful duvet. His abs, thick cables of sweaty muscles flex when he looks up at me. His eyes follow my every movement. I feel my pulse in my neck quicken as nerves and excitement wash over me.

With all the outside looking in, all the upkeep to look as good as Agatha and I do I deserve this. I need a treat now and then for playing good. I need this, I deserve this.

He licks his lips and I grimace. It's like, the 15th time he's licked his lips. Does he require chapstick or something?

I sigh. I deserve this. I deserve this. I have to repeat that line she fed me when she told me about this little rendezvous.

Pulling himself off his elbows, eyeing me in my thin cotton robe, he licks his lips again "What does the little rich boy want," he smirks.

_Ugh_. Instant turn off. The second it leaves his thin slobbery lips any arousal I feel flickers out. I can't focus on his eight pack and toned glutes, now noticing he's around ten years older then me and how his dark self tanner blotches white on his ankles and hands. Again ugh, a real treat for sure.

"Agatha, darling?" I don't turn to look at her silhouette leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"I'm coming Baz," she huffs, obliviously taking her precious time because she herself has no desire lay to on the bed with this primate.

"I've decided that maybe it's best if we catch drinks with Niall at Artisan, fortunately we've missed most of his deplorable attempt at hosting a Gala.''

She stomps out of the room in front of me. Her pretty brows wrinkled

"Basil, I'd presume you'd notice that we are in the middle of something." her eyes flicker back to the orange "seductive" lip licker currently flicking through his phone. 

I roll my eyes. "Agatha where did you exactly find him?" I hiss into her ear, "The alley way between a tanning booth and the early bird special?" 

She gasps. "I'll have you know Todd is a lovely tennis instructor at the club."

I balk at that, running my hand over my face, trying to simmer my anxiety. "Agatha, club is home territory. What if somebody finds out about this? When you told me about this, I thought you would at least have the decency to make sure that it never comes back to haunt us."

If I was anybody else right now my hands would be shaking, but at least one thing I learned from my father is the art of composure.  
I look out at the scene before me. Agatha, my wife glowering at me. The man on the bed with the pearl Donna Karan Duvet cover under his orange fingers. A Kate Spade wool blend rug with champagne glasses and clothes scattered on it. The full length mirror reflecting my rigid stance.

If I was anybody else maybe I wouldn't feel a dull ache is my head, like a bullet of lead. There's been this terrible stillness inside me, growing like an extra organ. I fill it like water to a well. Stuffing it with exotic dinners that taste like shit and the fanciest trinkets money can buy, and I still wake with yawning emptiness and now I surrender to it. I've always wondered what would it feel like to actually be alive.

Agatha hides her anger poorly, her pretty eyes blinking rapidly, ""I'm sorry I'm not the best matchmaker Basil, I'll just send in him off his merry way. I was just trying to make you happy," She quips at the end, maybe as an attempt to make me feel guilty or maybe in her own way she was actually trying to help.

I know I say to her. I know. 

**Agatha**

Niall, Keris and I head out to the city for some shopping. Usually I wouldn't go out with Keris by myself without somebody else to keep me entertained.

Pretty like a fawn and slender, with her sleepy eyes and long ashy brown hair. Though her awkwardly tall height, paralleling with her subdued personalty reminded me of a floor lamp. At least Minty could keep me entertained with her trivial gossip

She fingers at the fabric of a mink coat with indifference as we listen to Niall boast about the Gala.

"How about the tan one? It's would look so pretty." I gush quietly.

Baz's cousin Dev has put me to task in finding out if Keris is remotely attracted to him. After his futile attempts to court her, both their parents scheming for marriage, he has taken it upon me to wrestle out what exactly is going on in her head.

She blushes "It's pretty I guess." she murmurs and I smile with teeth.

I'm glad for the distraction with Keris, things have been tense. Basil has been off all week. After the failure with Todd and to Baz's dismay we didn't miss the Gala. He spent the night aloof, inside a compartment in his head. Swishing a drink in his hand, he nodded to all conversation with the same level of interest, not even amusing Niall with mock praise. The night ended with him stating that I should stop any other encounters I had in mind and it's been like this ever since.

"The coordinator was also fucking blown away! Pity he'd never seen that many guests before that night!" Niall boasts, making sure we've heard that line twice. He then snaps at the sales girl for not knowing his tab number by heart, hurling a coat on her counter. 

Niall doesn't know his father oversees the whole thing. After tanking an attempt at his own entertainment business and not passing the bar, I'm surprised he has any pride to talk down to anybody. Baz said handouts are easy to take if you're that simpleminded.

We exit the boutique and I feel the devil himself tail behind me. Baz looking sharp dressed in a black pea coat, blood red scarf and charcoal black Chelsea boots. He slips passed us, turning around to smile. 

"I assumed you'd all be finished by now, so I thought I'd catch up." He puts on a thoughtful expression that doesn't meet his eyes. 

I kiss his cheek which he doesn't return and then greets Keris. 

"Baz, if you were nearby then I wouldn't be stuck with the chicks." Niall whines. 

"Pity for them. Anyway, what were you two shopping for?" 

"Rings for Keris." Niall sneers before we can speak. Keris looks at him alarmed. "What?" Baz and I look between them rigidly. 

"Rings. For. Keris. You know! You and Dev duh. Don't play daft." 

She sputters then, eyes welling up a bit. "Whatever you're thinking, it's never going to happen." 

I feel Baz tense up at that. His face twisted up like he's recalled something painful. I want to grab his hand and squeeze it, but I don't. 

"Never going to happen?" Niall grumbles, "What would your father say about that. Anyway it's not like guys are lining up around the corner for you."

"I wouldn't care if they were." 

"You shouldn't be so picky. You would care if you knew what people were saying about you," he jeers, "Also If you weren't in grad school you would be married by now" He adds disgusted. 

It begins raining then, the street padded away with rain. We begin moving on the crosswalk. 

"And what grades did you receive in uni, Niall?" Baz cuts in, speaking quietly. Face looking grave, already knowing the answer. Niall's family bought his education, everybody knows that. 

"I'm taking over the family business Basil. Business runs in my blood naturally," he comments, then pretending to think, "Well, like that matters anyway." He smirks, looking at Baz for a reaction. Piece of shit. 

Probably a bit thrilled and half terrified for silencing a Pitch, Niall walks twenty steps ahead of us shoving an old beggar out of his way to get to the street. I look to Keris whose face is brimmed with shame and then to Baz's who looks torn from furious to drained.

**Simon**

Still on the sidewalk outside, I take deep breaths trying to calm myself down. Whenever I feel overwhelmed, thats when all the memories comeback with vivid detail. I know the clinic is nowhere near here but with the rain washing the sidewalk and how the city bustles, it's all bringing in too much nostalgia and I suddenly need to get away.

The rent is due soon, term is starting, I can't afford food, Penny's leaving me, and it's raining. I repeat it and again and again. I look around the street trying to shake off old memories. 

In my woes I turn to see a homeless woman getting shoved hard by a man on the street, crying out in surprise as she drops her bags to the ground. I scramble to pick them up for her before she can bend over.

I look ahead for that guy who hasn't even turned around. A fleshy guy wearing clothes that cost more then anything this woman owns and he can't even spit out a sorry?  
I feel myself flare with anger and my hands are shaking again. Honestly though, why can't everybody just be kind? Maybe she doesn't have the same things he does but shes still a fucking person. Can't anybody just walk around on the street without becoming someones punching bag? 

"Are you alright?" I look to her, handing back her things. She's obviously too frail to be outside and her thin coat isn't doing anything to keep her warm. 

I'm met with kind eyes and a shaky smile, "Quite all right deary, though I thank you for helping an ol' bat like me. With the stoves still on and such."

She's obviously has dementia and now the memories are coming back full swing and.....It comes out like word vomit, I can't shut my mouth before it comes out. **  
**

"Oi! Haven't you got the brains not to be knockin into people? Ya stupid fucking slag," I spit it out angrily. 

Even though steps away from me, he whirls around shocked. "HOW DARE YOU TALK TO ME LIKE THAT!!" he roars. "Am I supposed to roll out the red fucking carpet like the help for some bum? You filthy street rat" He sneers, marching closer to look down at me with his nostrils flared 

I feel myself flushing red. This has to be the worst day ever and now I'm picking fights on the street, but I keep going even though my heart is beating with panic. 

"Well what you expect walking around with those trousers up to ya neck. Ya Fuckin twat" I spit, giving the old woman her bag off the ground. 

When I hear a snort, I turn myself around and meet dancing grey eyes. Two girls and a boy watch the scene, all hiding smirks behind their hands as the twit gets flustered. The rude guy's fleshy cheeks flush angry red, his eyes water with embarrassment as his mouth spits curses. Telling by his reaction, no one has ever given him real shit before today. He twists around and begins stomping down the street while his clique follows suit. 

I can't believe I just did that. My heart is in my throat, I feel extinguished and deflated, shocked by my own bravery. I turn around shyly to the old women, who's beaming at me, as if forgetting the entire outburst just happened. 

"Aren't you the prettiest thing I've ever seen." 

I blush looking at her, not sure to say thank you or ask her if shes needs more help. 

"Though the rain making everything harder then it ought to be," she continues looking at me blankly.

She turns away then, leaving me. It's incoherent what she said, but she whispers it like a proverb from an upside down place.

I look up at grey clouds showering down on London, letting the drizzle sprinkle my face. "I couldn't agree more." **  
**

 

**Agatha**

Niall hasn't recovered, he stomps ahead of us, muttering as we struggle to keep up. He thinks he can always weasel things out of his mouth then hide behind his father. I guess it took a stranger to actually put him in his place. How Niall spoke to Baz before was completely out of line and that made the altercation so much sweeter.

Speaking of which, Baz keeps smiling behind his hand, even though we've walked 30 blocks away. I can feel him beside me, twisting his head around looking for that freckled faced boy again and then that's when it hits me.

I sniff, dusting imaginary lint off my coat. "I forgot my perfume I bought, I will have to go back and get it. I'll catch up. Don't worry." I announce to three surprised faces. 

Baz squints, Nialls huffs already annoyed and any verbal speech wakes Keris up from dreamland. I turn to leave when I feel one of them follow behind me. 

"AND nobody follow me!" I warn, whipping back then to a wide-eyed Keris at my heels.

I strut away then, letting them watch my hair flip back and forth. The gears in my head start turning. My groove coming back from the dead as I feel a really wicked grin making its way on my face.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally meet yaay!! My canon is that Keris is beautiful and like one of the smartest people in Watford (besides Baz and Penny) without even trying at all.


	4. Perpetual (Interlude)

  
  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if she was still here. As a child, I'd grow and grow but this mindset inside myself is turning back towards 'what if'. I'm running away fast from what could have been but at the same time I always round back. It's like catching Flying Wish Paper, I'm grabbing at ashed pieces trying to decrypt the past to find the answer to fixing myself.

Enraging uncles and cousins twice her age, Natasha Pitch was named President of the Pitch Dynasty, making her both the youngest and first female to do so. By increasing share holdings of 30 more companies, she tripled our profits and established the Pitches as one of the richest dynasty's in Europe and all this accomplished at only 25. My mother could be so cut throat to her firm and even dubbed a ruthless bitch by her family but I adored her so. I was her shadow, I'd trail behind her skirts picking up petals from flowers and pebbles asking her to hold them in her Hermes purse. All trinkets to show much I cherished her. 

I was five when blazing fire took our home. I remember smoke so black it scalded my throat, the wallpaper furling up from heat then blackening to compressed charred ash. As flames weaved it's way through rooms my mother broke a window, screaming as glass dug into her arm as she pushed me through. We were the only two there and only one survived. It took fire for greatness to fall, the marrow of my bones, the blood that threads through me was gone and for some unfathomable reason I still live.

Pansy, sissy, puff, fairy, pussy. How could an eloquent speaker like Malcolm Grimm not just drum out the string of slurs his son was becoming? At seven I could not understand why baking or prancing around the room to music was considered " _unseemly and abnormal_ " to my father. Why is ' _'I love you"_ to dainty for a boy to say to his parent? My mother was dead and I wanted comfort not polo camps in France, swarms of nannies and gifts from business trips. Should I have been grateful that instead of raised fists and foul slurs I got the cold shoulder? Sometimes I wonder if I'm just playing into an overtired trope about a rich boys absent father. I have a lot of questions tattooed in the back of my mind and I ponder which ones he could answer but I cannot stomach the idea of him asking back why I was alive and she was not.

I was nine when Father sent me away to live with Aunt Fiona for a stretch of time. He was busy then, the company grew further across the globe and so did his love life. While I wept at night for my parents, he spent his free time showering unlimited affection on a socialite in France (who would soon become my step mother).

From the age of ten, as the night grew darker, I'd twist anxiously in bed wondering if my mother could see me. Watching me as I'd go around in life. Was she there during my football games? Observing all the goals I kicked and how I broke a school record? Was she gazing at birthdays, Christmases, or even my recitals?

When I was fourteen I joined the rowing team at the club by my father's request. One day we lost a game, so feeling vexed my younger cousin Marcus carved the word fag into one of our opponents oars. I remember him looking at me as he finished, waiting for approval while waves of shame and nausea washed over me. Being endangered all the time, that's what adolescents feels like when your closeted with the whole world watching you. It doesn't matter if it's the 21st century, I still live in a tank of sharks waiting for blood.

As my high school graduation passed I finally breathed with relief. With the freedom of university and my absent aunt's penthouse I was finally going to be out. After acing my tests and papers I'd reward myself with soft kisses in clubs and hookups in dark alleyways to the beat of house music playing inside. I had rules though: never in daylight, never take anybody back to the apartment. Maybe "out" wasn't the right word for it then, but the touch of faceless strangers, the excitement churning in my belly from flirtatious whispers was feeding me like supper to a starving man. I wanted to touch, feel, be used, make up for emptiness and fuck all the pain away.

 

  I'm twenty when my father's minions drag me out of bed; dread would have sprung if my brain didn't feel like wet cotton (Few too much tequila sours). "Whatever you're thinking, it's not going to happen," I warned sitting in the negotiation chair in my father's office. I tried putting on a mask of indifference but my shaky breath turned me in. He finally knew all the bad things his son was up too. He must have heard whispers about trips to the clubs and all the lingered hookups in dark alleyways. I sat there red eyed with yesterdays wrinkled club clothes on as he told me my fate.

"This behavior has consequences," He sat behind his desk, folding his hands. "Every action we have, has consequences. I have strived many, many years to build my families future, I will certainly not allow the actions that jeopardize everything I've worked for to be tarnished by **_you_**."

It should be known that before that day I have never set foot in my fathers office. The room with a glossy dark cherry desk, Riviera letter opener and a skyline view chosen over all my birthday's, holidays, and recitals combined. To finally be invited to his sanctuary (cough glorified man cave cough) only to be pummeled with these scandalous but _very_ _true_ accusations was sending me over.

"I apologize for troubling you father. Let it be known that you will never see or hear this type of behavior from me ever again." I held his gaze while not allowing my stomach to jump in nausea.

He had smiled then, very well relaxed. "Me seeing or hearing any of these rumors will not be stopped unless this type of behavior is squandered completely Basil. As of now you're inheritance, reputation and any seat you have in this household will be taken from you by the flick of my pen. Now with that being said, how shall I know that this behavior will never occur again?"

We stared at each other then, observing any hint of what card would be laid down next. To be honest I was so hung over that I could not even bother to add extra frills to whatever apology I had in my pocket. "I'll prove it," I said, if I was some other twenty something I would have added a question mark at the end of the statement, though I wanted too.

"Those are just words, if I wanted pleasantries about our family I'd get any one of the minions to string us a tribute on the wall. Proof is sight Basil. You've always been clever, now paint me a picture I'd actually like to see." 

I grind my teeth hard. I wanted to kick his ornate desk, leave a good scuff mark preferably with dog shit. "Father, I've always made it my one constant to always add pride and be nothing but a mirrored image to my mothers legacy and all the work she had done to build this company." I recite. How dare he ever connect my mothers achievements and establishments as his own "building legacy''.

"You're mother," he smiles softly then before flicking his eyes back to me. "Before her I was just one side of a coin you know, like a ship without an anchor," his eyes begin to glint then, "Marriage will always be a blessed thing," he turns to me smirking. The look on his face makes my neck prickle and air in the room turn icy. "Without a doubt father! I mean look what it did for you." I jump from the chair restlessly, thinking exit strategies. His change in tone made me agitated, like he was coaxing out an awful joke.

"Basil what is a man without union? The strongest alliances of history are created with marriage." The rooms on fire, I can feel it. "Whatever you're thinking it not going to happen," I can hear the hysteria in my own voice. "Well what else would you rather be known for?" he snaps then, "Parading around London with my family's name over you're head? Depraved and ungrateful! That's what you are! You would have made Natasha sick with you're bawdiness."

It was like a knife in chest when he said it. When he uttered her name I wanted to slap my hands over ears and scream "Stop it.Stop it. Stop it." but instead I started to tremble then cry. I didn't want father to be mad, I wanted him to know that after her I haven't been alright. Here I was taking painful breaths in front of him, crying like a child for forgiveness, wanting him to forget that it happened, needing him to love me for who I was.

All my poise and pride fell away in front of the person I've never dared cried to. "Please don't make me do this," I hiccuped to father while stumbling closer to his desk. "I don't want to get married, please! I'll do anything else but pleas-," he cuts me off as I sink to my knees. 

"I've already decided."

        ♦

 

  Married at twenty. It took six hundred guests, an ice sculptor and an orchestra to set off the great farce. My father couldn't be prouder, he smiled really genuine and clapped me on the back before the ceremony. I was pissed by the speeches, vomiting behind the rose bushes as guests lit off lanterns off in the garden.

Still, sometimes even now in the late hours of darkness I wonder if my mother can see me. Did she see my graduation? I was valedictorian, I even used her speech at the podium. More of my birthday's and even my bloody wedding. I think of all the milestones my mother could have viewed and then I worry. If she could peer inside our world like a crystal ball what would she think of me now? Could she have ever love me if I'm...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took quite awhile haha. I wrote a lot for what I considered to be chapter four then realized I wanted to show a little on how baz ended up married. So really sorry for taking so long!!! Also want to add that everybody in the story is 22!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever posted lol, so much terrible grammar could be expected (lol so dont expect much!!!!!!!). I'm not too sure when i'll update, it's not because I have finals, its just because I am a lazy lil bag of trash Nº1


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